


Sexxxy Dudes Crying and Stuff

by winkwonk



Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Humor, Implied Incest, M/M, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winkwonk/pseuds/winkwonk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and Sam are in love and Dean is sad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sexxxy Dudes Crying and Stuff

**Author's Note:**

> Now with a dramatic reading by fingalsanteater which you can listen to here: http://vocaroo.com/i/s0M5HYhGN1Ov
> 
> I am truly honored. *U*

It was a dark, dark night. Dean had woken up in a cold sweat. Something wasn't right here. The wind rustled his out-of-control eyelashes forebodingly, sending a subzero chill to his very core.

"Sam?" he called. He had a feeling in his gut that was worse than the time the apocolypse happened. He received no answer from his fluffy-haired younger brother, but as he continued down the stairs, he could hear...was that? Yes. There was soft harp music playing from somewhere. He followed the sound down the hallway, listening at each door. The hallway seemed to go on forever and maybe if he wasn't so atomically focused on saving his baby brother who was probably IN TROUBLES, he would have questioned where this hallway even came from. 

The music was growing louder, so he knew he must be on the right track. 

Maybe he should just go back to bed. His heart was pounding, so he patted his virtuous chest and whispered, "Shhhh. It's just Sam practicing his harp music."

That's when he heard the second worst thing ever: ROMANTIC GIGGLING. And worst of all, it wasn't just Sam's beautiful voice fluttering through the air like a chorus of eye-squishingly adorable fairies--there was definitely a deep, British giggle belonging to someone else entirely. Without hesitation, Dean kicked down the door with his powerfully sexy leg. The door flew off its hinges and hit the floor with a "KABOOM!!!!", exclamation points included, followed by the sound of Sam's high-pitched screams.

It was exactly as Dean had feared: the room was set up like some sort of harem chamber from a bad 70s movie about Ancient Times, and seated on the couch was Sam, in a translucent, shimmery gown that was open at the midriff and left almost nothing to the imagination. In the corner, a harp was playing by itself. But the focus of Dean's rage was the person sitting underneath Sam--a mysterious, milky-skinned consulting detective who had an incredibly smug and faintly amused look on his face as he stroked Sam's shoulder. Sam shuddered without inhibition at his touch.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Sam said. "I didn't want you to find out this way."

Dean felt tears welling up in his eyes. Oh no. They would get stuck on his wild eyelashes for sure, and the gifs would never not be reblogged.

"I can't believe," he sobbed, gut-wrenchingly, "you would throw away what we had for this...this...CREEPY WEIRDO!"

Sam rolled his eyes like a thirteen-year-old in detention being told she can't use white out on her nails and call it a French manicure. "His name is Hemlock?"

"Sherlock."

Sam and Sherlock looked at each other in silence for a pregnant moment and then Sam turned back to Dean and said "I meant Sherlock."

"But why? What was he have that I don't?"*

Sam smiled, turning back to Sherlock and kissing his nose deeply. "Well for starters, he has bristling good looks. And pays attention to what hair products I use."

Sherlock sniffed Sam's fluffy-wuffy hair, then rubbed it all over his face and finally licked it, just to make sure, and said, "Bed Head Small Talk Thickifier and raspberry jam. Delightful."

Sam giggled and they went back to making out while Dean went over to the harp and cried for the rest of forever the end.


End file.
